Personal mail

When we moved into the house on the lake, there was no mail delivery, so we had to open a PO box at the local post office in Harmony. The postmaster, Roberta, asked what Cherisse and I did. When I said I wrote, she told me she had other customers who were writers and that she always imparted positive thoughts to any manuscripts that passed through her hands.

I believe in the power of positive thinking, and it seems logical that combined positive thoughts can only help, so I appreciated her support. As it turns out, I didn’t mail any manuscripts (spending most of my time on marketing writing), but I’ve enjoyed talking to Roberta throughout the years. She has always remembered everything I’ve said…and I am sure she’s the same with all of her customers, who she greets by name.

When we moved to Foster we no longer needed the PO box, but we hated to give it up. Not too many people can give “Harmony” as an address; mostly, though, we felt a connection to Roberta, and the small town community she embodied. In a way we led dual mail lives, getting to know our Foster mail carrier, George, and going to the Foster post office early one morning to pick up our two-day old chicks (the postmaster had called us around 6 a.m. to tell us we could knock on the back door to get them, well before he opened).

Today I finally closed the Harmony box. I spent some time catching up with Roberta. I haven’t seen her much in the past few years, but she still remembers everything. She asked if I was writing, if Cherisse was still doing woodworking. She wanted to know how we liked Foster. As I filled out the change of address forms, Roberta greeted another customer by name. Then she told me to drop by from time to time to say hello.

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